


Drowning For Love

by redfoxblackfox



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Drowning, Fake AH Crew, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, M/M, Recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-10
Updated: 2019-05-10
Packaged: 2020-02-29 12:38:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18778456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redfoxblackfox/pseuds/redfoxblackfox
Summary: They’d find him. Not too long now.Because even though he knew next to nothing about his situation, he knew one thing. There was no fucking way that Gavin would leave him here to rot.______Basically, Trevor gets kidnapped and tortured for information on The Fakes.Good thing Trevor was always the stubborn type.





	Drowning For Love

**Author's Note:**

> This is a one-shot for my buddy Arin who requested kidnapped Trevor with Trevor/Gavin, and as usual, it ended up much longer than I expected!

Trevor awoke slowly. His head felt fuzzy and his eyelids were heavy. The first thing he became aware of were the biting cold shackles around his wrists, keeping him pinned to something cold and metal-like behind him.

He blinked slowly trying to bring the room into focus. After a moment of attempting to grasp onto alertness the room began to lose its blurry edges. The lighting was dim and the room was little more than a cell. A concrete box with no windows and only one way out, a heavy-duty iron door.

He had been captured.

_So fucking stupid,_ he thought to himself. He hadn’t even been the one with the dangerous task in their heist, as he rarely ever was. Recon and intelligence, those were his specialties. Usually, he stayed as far away from the bad guys as possible.

The door abruptly opened and his eyes darted over to see who was entering. A giant of a man stepped into the room. Trevor involuntarily shuddered at the expressionless face. He might be much taller than he was as a kid, but he wasn’t exactly a big guy. It looked like this dude could knock him out with a harsh glare. He couldn’t do this.

“I’ll make this simple,” the giant said as the door shut behind him. “I’m going to ask you some questions. If I like the answers you give me nothing will happen to you. If I don’t then things are going to get very bad for you very quickly, boy. 

Trevor knew the threat was very real. His hands shook and he squeezed his eyes shut. He couldn’t give up The Fakes secrets. As terrifying as this was he knew that his own pain and his single life were insignificant in comparison to the safety of his family and the legacy they had built up over the years. He swallowed hard as he clenched his trembling fists. He took a deep breath and opened his eyes.

“I’ll start with an easy one,” the man told him. “How many are you?”

Trevor laughed shakily. “You’ve got the wrong man, dude. Do I look like anyone important to you? I’m just some scrawny country kid who does odd jobs to make ends meet in the city. Never really needed to know the details. I just do what I’m told.”

For such a big guy, he sure could move quickly. The punch to his gut happened so fast that Trevor heard his own cry before he’d even fully realised what had happened. Another hand had moved around, gripping one of his fingers tightly, crushing it at an agonisingly slow pace. As the bone cracked and Trevor screamed, the man hissed with a satisfied glint in his eye:

“Wrong answer.”

* * *

 

Trevor’s body was ruined. The giant had crushed several bones in his hands. They were a swollen bloody mess of shattered bones and torn skin. His ribs and chest ached where he’d been punched several times, hot fire every time he drew breath. One of his eyes felt like it was starting to swell shut, and he couldn’t get rid of the coppery taste of blood in his mouth.

When he finally awoke after having passed out again from the pain, he wondered how long he’d been taken. It already felt like days but it could well be only a few hours.

The others should already be on their way. They’d find him. Not too long now.

Time began to pass slowly as he sat awkwardly on the cold floor. Boredom was not something Trevor usually associated with the thought of capture and torture but it was definitely something he was experiencing now chained to the god damn pipe. He wasn’t sure how much more time had passed when the door finally opened and another man stepped into the room.

After that he was begging for the chance to be bored again. It was becoming mind-breakingly hard to concentrate on not accidentally letting anything slip as he was questioned and beaten and questioned and beaten over a period of time that seemed to stretch on and on and on.

By the time they’d finished on him this time his vision was swimming, the room a haphazard whirlpool of darkness and blinding white lights. His body sagged weakly against the wall, and when his current abuser’s grip left its spot on his shoulders he found himself falling to the floor with a resounding thud.

He lay there. Breathing. Or trying to at least. It was getting kind of hard.

_Not long now,_ he had to keep reminding himself.

They’d find him. Not too long now.

Because even though he knew next to nothing about his situation, he knew one thing. There was no fucking way that Gavin would leave him here to rot. The man would move heaven and earth if it meant them being together again.

This, Trevor knew to be the truth.

* * *

Hands were under his shoulders, forcing him upright. Trevor winced but didn’t try to say anything.

It didn’t do him much good, anyway.

“Stand him up.”

The hands pushed him up roughly once more, but he simply hung there, eyes drooping. He was in too much pain and too exhausted and too _weak_ to keep his weight up. Pain rolled through his body like fiery waves.

“Fucking, stand up!”

A kick to the back of his knee, like this asshole seriously thought that was going to be of any help. He did scream then, in agony. Tears welled in his eyes, and pain threatened to drag him under.

A moment's silence then, and he could only imagine the frustration he was causing the brutes. It gave him a slither of satisfaction, but even that couldn’t last long, as the hands under his shoulders were suddenly removed and he fell like a rag doll down onto the hard floor.

He must have passed out because the next time he woke up he was somewhere completely different. He was outside? Or he was somewhere where there was more fresh air and sunlight than he’d had in… how long? Days? Weeks? It must be about a week. Even though he had the tendency to lose weight too quickly, judging by the state he was in, he’d have to have been starved for at least a week by now.

He let out a small whimper as his broken hand pressed against the hard floor, but he persevered through the pain and exhaustion and eventually managed to push himself up, wearily opening his eyes a crack to get a look at his surroundings.

He… he recognised this place. It was near the dockyard. Good-for-nothings came to dump their trash in the water here all the time. That meant he knew the direction home was, and there was no one around…

He tried, he really did, with all his might, to struggle to his feet. But while his mind wanted one thing his body needed another, and right now what it needed was to not move, rather focus on one struggled breath after the other.

It was deathly hot, and he had managed to shift back a bit, leaning his injured shoulder against the wall. He was fighting with his mind now, struggling to stay conscious, throat rasping with every pained breath as dehydration tore into him.

He’d always hated dry summers like these during his childhood. The dead heat, the muggy air, the flies, dust, the smell, their farm, his father’s need to drink even more than usual, all of it would make him feel like complete shit.

At least the shallow pool of water they’d left him to lie in was cool. Even so, it was too much. The pain, the heat, the throbbing of his head. Trevor didn’t want to give up, but he was finding it harder and harder to think of a way to stay awake, let alone alive. Glancing up, he found there was a hole in the metal roof, and the picture-perfect sky sneered down at him, and as he stared he noticed a bird circling, then another.

Like vultures lurking. Except they were gulls.

If he was this close to death, there really wasn’t any way to escape its grasp.

He was… sad. Not for the fact that he was going to die any time soon, but because the others hadn’t come for him. And again, he was in no sense feeling abandoned or betrayed, he was just overwhelmingly sad because he knew the others would have put everything they had into trying to find him, only to be too late. And that made him sad. Knowing how his death would affect them.

Gavin… He only wished he could see the man he loved once more, if only for a second, he’d take it.

Voices echoed through the abandoned dock suddenly, ones that brought up involuntary hairs on the back of his neck. He recognised them as the assholes who’d been torturing him and spat out the bile that had risen in his throat as they approached.

They paid him no mind as the bigger one grabbed Trevor and hoisted him over his shoulder like it was nothing, oblivious to his cries of pain.

And then a face he definitely didn’t miss. The fucking giant man smiled sickly at Trevor as they carried him over, dropping him down onto his knees right in front of him.

Trevor fell forward, face scraping against small stones and tiny pieces of glass. A black boot appeared in front of his swimming vision, the toe nudging his head to tilt up slightly. While this was happening he was vaguely aware of something being tied tightly around him, digging into his skin around his ankles.

He met the man’s gaze with what he hoped was a look of burning hatred, wanted the man to know exactly how much Trevor fucking hated him, as if that would hurt his feelings or something stupid.

The man regarded him. “Last chance,” he said.

“Fuck you,” Trevor hissed, rejoicing at the slightest hint of frustration he saw.

A beat.

“Drop him.”

The two men left took a side each of Trevor.

“Hey! Let go of me!” Trevor yelled, struggling and squirming as much as he could in their grasp. One to them laughed. He knew it was hopeless – these guys were strong, and between being beaten and injured and weakened he could barely move, more so with what he could now see were bricks that had been tied to him. “Please, you don’t have to do this! Let me go!”

Was this it?

Fuck, now there were tears coming out of his eyes. Trevor thrashed around, his broken hand screaming in pain, his chest burning up, but their grip was resolute.

Trevor closed his eyes

He took a deep breath.

They swung him and let go.

* * *

Trevor went plummeting towards the water.

He was floating on air for a millisecond, and that was it. He crashed into the icy cold water below. And he was submerged.

His eyes flew open straight away. The water was surprisingly freezing, now maybe it was because outside was so hot, but the cold shocked him to the bone. It was all he could do not to gasp. He was already numb.

He began struggling in the water. He desperately tried to kick, to swim to the surface, but it was nearly impossible. He couldn’t move his limbs much, and the bricks were dragging him down. He could see the dim light of the surface get farther and farther out of reach.

This was it.

He used the last bit of strength to hold his breath until his lungs burned. He didn’t want to die, _couldn’t_ die yet. Pain be damned, he _thrashed_ , yanking at his bonds despite the agony screaming from his injuries. He darted his eyes about the murky water, searching wildly and desperately for an escape.

It was a losing battle, but he couldn’t care less. He wouldn’t go down without a fight. His body forced him to exhale, and he gasped, inhaling water. His chest was on fire, and it hurt more than anything he’d ever been through.

Gavin.

The thought of him made Trevor want to sob. He wondered if he would ever find out. Maybe it would be best if he didn’t. Then at least his last memory of Trevor would be a good one, that wouldn’t be so bad, would it?

Darkness crept into the edges of his blurry vision, and just as the sun peeked out from a cloud above, he succumbed to the grip of unconsciousness that had been clawing him into the darkest depths.

* * *

The fight had been bloody but quick.

Their raid on the gang’s warehouse had turned up empty save for one guy left to guard the place. Fortunately, he had either held no loyalty for his gang or was only a newbie; whatever the reason, he gave up the other’s location with little prodding. Only Geoff and Jack had remained behind with him, just in case his information had turned out false.

The rest of them, Gavin, Michael, Jeremy, and Ryan had made their way to the abandoned dockyard. It was empty. And it was quiet. And they spent a good fifteen minutes just carefully creeping around empty warehouses and rotting old crates.

And then suddenly; voices. Reacting quickly, they ducked behind the corner of the warehouse. Peering around and squinting, Gavin could make out three figures; three men standing.

Wait, there was a fourth figure on the ground.

His breath caught in his throat. _Trevor_. He elbowed Ryan in the stomach and the older man nodded. He leaned forward, trying to hear snippets of conversation. One of the men walked away. He must be the one in charge. Gavin focused on the figure on the ground. From this distance he could just about make out his features; slim face, dark hair, blood gushing from his nose and bruises blossoming on his skin. It was Trevor without a doubt, and he found his eyes burning. He was so beaten up. How fucking _dare_ they.

He made himself focus on the situation, not his anger. Green eyes flickered from Trevor to the three men. They weren’t heavily armed. Between the four of them they could take them down, the biggest issue was there was no cover between them, and at this distance they’d see them coming. They couldn’t risk Trevor any more –

Hang on. Ryan was saying something.

“Gavin…” the man trailed off. He glanced at where Trevor was, torn. His eyes widened slightly. “They’re going to –”

Yelling.

That was Trevor. He was yelling. A splash followed.

A cry of rage.

It took Gavin a few seconds to realise it came from himself.

Anger coiled in his gut and Gavin launched into a run at them. Letting loose an angry cry of his own, he punched the first man in the face before swinging his leg around in a kick that swept his feet from under him. Leaving him for the others to deal with, he charged forward recklessly. One man was reaching for his gun, the other already had a weapon aimed in his direction. His mind froze for a second, unsure which direction he should dart in, but he was saved by steady voice suddenly behind him:

“Heads up, Gavvy.”

He came to a skidding halt, instinctively dropping to the ground and covering his head, hiding his face in his knees.

A moment’s rest. Then his body was jolted by a sudden intense burst of heat and bits of gravel rained down on him, a familiar smokey smell filling his nostrils, the deafening bang of an exploding grenade.

When he looked up it was to the screams of a dying man and the silent and still body of another. Michael had landed it perfectly, right between the two, like he always did.

His best friend walked ahead now, a predator closing in on its prey. Another loud bang rang out, a gunshot this time, and the other man fell silent.

As for the third, he tried to run but Ryan tripped him up; easy and effortlessly. He knelt down and pressed the blade to his throat.

And before any of the others had time to react, Jeremy had taken a running leap and dived into the water. Gavin resisted the urge to follow him. He wasn’t the strongest of swimmers, if anyone was going to get Trevor out quickly it would be Jeremy.

He dashed forward to the edge, eyes fixated on the rippling water. No sign of either Jeremy or Trevor.

He glanced back as Ryan let out a low growl, and saw the man struggling under Ryan’s grasp. When he saw Gavin looking the man even managed a smirk. “He’s weighted at the bottom of the docks by now,” he rasped. Gavin looked down at him in a mixture of hatred and sorrow for a moment, saw the look mirrored on Ryan’s face. And then: he didn’t yell; he roared. Ryan swung his fist back, bringing it sharply down on the man’s head. Once, twice, three times.

The man’s nose snapped and blood spurted from his nose. Ryan didn’t stop yelling or punching him. Gavin noticed how still the man was; he wasn’t moving. “Ryan!” he yelled sharply. “I need you here.”

Ryan froze, looking down with a look of pure disgust at the man underneath him. His blue eyes narrowed and hardened and _calmed_.

The second gunshot at that dockyard left a trail of red shooting out a few feet behind the man’s head, bits of skull splintering into the air, a few splats hitting Ryan in the face.

Gavin looked at the ruined face a little longer.

_Good_ , he thought.

There was a splash, and the sound of someone gasping for breath. “Jeremy?” Gavin turned his head, hoping beyond hope. Sure enough; Jeremy was there, sucking in air and treading water. Trevor was nowhere in sight.

“He –” Jeremy coughed a little. “He’s down here! But, I don’t know, there’s something weighing him down! I need to get the ties off him!”

“Here!” Ryan quickly reached under his jacket and chucked him a knife and the younger man went down again.

One, two, three… thirty seconds passed.

Gavin started whispering under his breath, “Please, please, please.”

_C’mon, c’mon, c’mon –_

Jeremy emerged gasping and spluttering, but this time with another body that he held carefully above the water.

“Jeremy!”

And Trevor. He had Trevor with him.

Jeremy swam the two of them over to the edge but after such a heroic effort he had no energy left to pull either of them out, and Ryan, Michael, and Gavin quickly rushed to help them both up. Ryan and Gavin crouched down to heave Trevor out of the water, dragging him away from the edge and lying him flat on the concrete ground, while Michael reached out an arm and swiftly pulled the youngest up, taking off his jacket and offering it to him.

Trevor was ghostly pale and his lips unnaturally blue, clothes sticking to him like a second skin so every rib could be seen. It made Gavin almost physically sick, seeing just how badly the younger man had been treated – he looked so small, a week of not eating had taken its toll on him. He was soaking wet, freezing cold and deathly pale.

And also... _Oh fuck no_ , Gavin realised in horror, as Ryan held his fingers against Trevor’s neck.

"He's alive," Ryan said, holding his fingertips against Trevor’s pulse point. "But he's not breathing.”

Gavin’s heart stopped.

"Move!" Michael pushed down beside Ryan, moving Trevor’s arm from where it had been lying across him. He interlocked his fingers and began compressing on his chest. "No Treyc’s, don't even fucking think about it.”

After thirty sharp compressions, he tilted Trevor’s head back, pinching his nose as he brought his mouth to his. He gave Trevor two breaths of air before going back to compressions.

"Don't you dare fucking leave us. Not after we worked so hard to find you. Don't fucking do that to us!”

More compressions and more breaths. No change in Trevor.

"You've been stubborn ever since I met you! Be stubborn now, dickhead. Cling onto your life. I need you to stay with us." Michael was yelling now. "Gavin needs you to stay with us. Ryan and Jeremy need you to stay with us. We all need you to stay with us.”

Another set of compressions and breaths, but Trevor’s chest still didn't begin to rise or fall. Jeremy let a choked sob escape.

"Listen to me, Trevor. Listen to me!" Michael was crying now. "If you're in there, listen. We're going to get out of this mess. You're going to live the life you deserve, you're going stay with your family, and you're going to live out your days as part of the best fucking crew in Los Santos. As long as you don't die you can do everything you ever dreamed of doing!”

"Michael," Ryan said gently. "Your compressions aren't deep enough. Let me take over for a while." Michael moved away and Ryan took over. He didn't speak but Gavin could tell by the way he was biting his lip and looking down at Trevor that he was in turmoil.

Trevor had to come back alive. He had to come back alive to him. Hadn't Gavin sworn he would protect him?

Yet he was useless. He wasn't like Michael or Ryan, couldn't release himself from his stupor to help, he couldn't do anything apart from clutch Trevor's hand. He brought the hand to his mouth, gently brushing his lips against the cold skin. "Please Trevor, please," he whispered. "Come back to us, please. Wake up!”

Michael cleared his throat. "I don't...I don't think there's anything we can do," he said softly, his voice shaking a little as he stood up.

"Bullshit!" Ryan roared, tears leaking out of his eyes, pausing with his compressions in his anger.

"He still has a pulse," Jeremy muttered. Without a word the youngest picked up where Ryan left off.

Thirty compressions. Two breaths. No change.

Gavin looked at Trevor's face. He looked somewhat peaceful, as if he was sleeping. Gavin was reminded of all the nights they had stayed up together and fallen asleep on the sofa watching bad movies and eating pizza. His eyes burned with unshed tears.

Gavin didn’t know if there was a God up there, but he said a prayer to any that may be listening: "I don't care who you are. Just don't take him away. Don't take him away from me, please.”

Michael took a few steps away, leaning against the low wall as his eyes began to water.

"Ryan..." Jeremy muttered, biting his lip and looking like he was about to burst into tears himself. "I think Michael’s right, he's not...he's not responding.”

Gavin’s blood went cold.

"Fuck this," Ryan said, coming back around to Trevor's side. "Listen to me! You're not dying, not when I'm here. You're not getting off so easily!”

"Ryan, give it up," Michael said sadly, covering his mouth with his hand. "It's no use. He’s... he's gone. We… we don't know what else they did to him… he could have internal injuries we don't even know about.”

Gavin let out a sob.

Ryan was giving compressions almost angrily, pressing down roughly in between his breaths.

"Trevor," Gavin choked out. "Listen to me, please. Open your eyes, breathe! I won't let anyone ever hurt you again, I promise. You'll be safe with me, we'll drink milkshakes and eat pizza and watch dumb movies and fall asleep on the couch. We'll hang out with the lads and eat the best dinners made by Jack. You'll be my best friend and my partner and I'll love you, just wake up. Please!”

Gavin was openly sobbing now. He could hear Jeremy sniffling behind him as he patted his shoulder. “Please."

"Dammit," Ryan muttered, giving two more breaths.

No change.

Gavin closed his eyes, tears sliding down his cheeks.

And then opened again as he heard it; a hacking coughing sound. Trevor sat up, coughing up water violently. Gavin’s heart stopped, he heard Jeremy gasp and Michael stand.

Trevor was shaking badly, coughing up all of the water in his lungs. "Fucking hell, you're such an asshole!" Ryan half-laughed and half-cried, holding his shoulder to steady him.

After what seemed like hours – though probably wasn't even minutes – Trevor stopped coughing, instead starting to breathe heavily; greedily sucking in air.

Gavin’s heart was thundering. He was sitting up, breathing, shaking, alive.

Gavin sobbed, throwing his arms around Trevor's shivering frame. He was openly sobbing now, his arms around Trevor's shoulders. He could feel Trevor's heart beating when they were this close.  _Oh God, he's alive_. The man half responded, feebly wrapping his own arms around Gavin’s waist, before they fell to the side as the man passed out, although this time he was only unconscious.

Michael was wiping tears from his eyes. Jeremy had one arm across Ryan's shoulders. Ryan was breathing heavily, wiping sweat away from his forehead.

And Gavin found himself unable to let go of Trevor, as if releasing him might undo all the work Ryan had just done into bringing him back.

There was only one thing consuming his entire being at that moment, and that was how much he loved the fucking weirdo.

* * *

 

Ryan had wasted no time in gathering the limp, cold body into his arms, one arm under the man’s legs and the other supporting his back, Trevor’s head flopping down onto his shoulder. Gavin’s heart leapt again at how little there was to the man; he had to squeeze Trevor’s arm a little tighter to reassure himself while he ran to the car.

He all but dived into the back seat, cradling Trevor’s torso on his lap, with Ryan moving in next to him and gathering up Trevor's legs, while Jeremy took the wheel and blasted the heating on high.

Pulling Trevor closer he felt incredibly small against Gavin’s arms, tiny, raspy breaths struggling to bring in oxygen. He was shivering non-stop and Gavin gently rubbed his hands against the man's arm, hoping that somehow it was helping.

When they arrived back at base and they went to carry him inside, if anything Trevor looked even paler and Ryan repeatedly checked his pulse.

It was all a bit chaotic after that. Everyone was crowding around them, then just as quickly being ushered away. Shouts of fear and anger, of joy. Their highly skilled and very well paid doctor was called in to take care of Trevor. That same highly skilled doctor was swiftly shown to a guest room once he’d assessed the damage and done all he could, should they need him again at short notice. Geoff made sure to double his pay for that day. Trevor woke up once, when his broken mess of a hand was being set, delirious and crying. He passed out before it was over, weak and sweating. He still felt too cold. They put him to bed with the heating on high and a drip going into his wrist.

Gavin just sat and watched the whole time. Not getting involved, not wanting to get in the way. Just watched.

He was still watching now, the only one, in fact. Sat in Trevor’s room, by his bed, watching.

He watched his chest rise and fall, inhaling and exhaling, breathing in precious oxygen.

He was _alive_.

Gavin let his eyes flutter closed. Even now, hours later, his heart was thrumming against his chest. Someone had tried to kill Trevor. End his life, take him away forever. The last few hours had been like a blur, yet way too clear and sharp at the same time.

Trevor looked so peaceful when he was sleeping, Gavin noted. His face relaxed, it melted the years away. He looked so young, so innocent. His eyelids fluttered occasionally, his breathing heavy. Breathing. Alive. Gavin was so thankful.

He reached out to brush Trevor’s hair off his eyes. It had gotten longer, he noticed. It had been too long. Gavin sighed, running his hand of Trevor’s face. He was still pale, but at least he wasn’t as cold as he had been. He gently caressed his cheek, not wanting to let him go, but not wanting to wake him either. He frowned as he saw the shadows of bruises across the cheeks, knowing that there was the same old story across the rest of Trevor’s skinny body, the mess of a right hand being the worst affected area.

“Gavin,” came a soft voice. Gavin looked up to see Ryan leaning against the doorframe. The others were in the kitchen, finishing up that night’s meal. “You should eat something,” the older man said.

He looked tired. He stood as tall as ever and looked alert, but there was unmistakably tension in his strong shoulders. There were dark bags under his eyes as well.

Gavin felt an enormous rush of gratitude for him. If it weren’t for Ryan or Jeremy or Michael, Trevor would be dead, his body rotting at the bottom of a river, or lying cold and motionless in the dockyard. The idea made Gavin’s stomach churn. He owed them so much. “I’m okay,” he said with a shake of his head. “I’m not leaving.”

Ryan gave him an understanding look, but didn’t say anything. He took a seat in the far corner of the room, but one that gave him direct line of site, and he pulled a book off the windowsill and leant back to read, acting as if he weren’t paying the two much mind.

Gavin appreciated the man’s way of giving him some sort of privacy, but understood that Ryan still wanted to be close, after everything they’d been through. There was an unspoken agreement between the two who could so often argue over the smallest of things.

They both wouldn’t be leaving Trevor’s side any time soon.

* * *

 

Trevor slipped in and out of consciousness, catching glimpses of the others worried faces, of big brown eyes, blue… green, and finally of a white ceiling. He tried to stay awake then, because he realised they must be back at the Tower, and something had happened which meant he shouldn’t be there… he couldn’t quite recall what.

But he fought to keep his eyes open, a circle of faces hovering over him - Michael with his lower lip trembling, one hand supporting Trevor’s head, mumbling over and over that Trevor was going to be okay, just hang in there, buddy, just a little longer.

Jack was there, too, his eyes shiny behind his glasses, saying nothing.

Ryan stood off to the side, his expression grim, shaking his head and saying something about how this never should have happened in the first place. Geoff was trying to calm him.

A shadow fell across him. Gavin. He could hear Fredo’s worried voice somewhere nearby, Jeremy shushed him, and Lindsay’s voice flittered in, too quiet for Trevor to make out the words. But he could hear the tone - it was comforting; hopeful and comforting and, above all else, relieved.

He felt himself being lifted in the air, strong, supporting arms cradling him like a child to their chest, and he wanted to squirm and complain that he wasn’t a baby and he was very much capable of walking himself, thank you very much. But then he realised that it hurt to squirm, and his eyes wouldn’t work properly let alone his voice, and that even now, as he was being carried, he felt exhaustion pulling him into darkness again.

And then he was gone.

The next time he woke he had no problem remembering exactly what had happened.

It was quieter now, calmer, but the moment he found consciousness again he couldn’t help but rush in a sharp breath, like he’d only just been pulled from the water.

Immediately, there was a figure leaning over him, green eyes huge with concern. _Fuck_ , how he’d missed those eyes, and that face. That beautiful face.

“Gav,” he croaked.

“Oh, Treyc’s,” Gavin whispered, lowering his head. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Trevor mumbled, eyelids fluttering shut again. “Wasn’t you.”

“Still such an idiot,” Gavin said, choked.

“A handsome idiot, though?” Trevor asked.

“The most handsome,” Gavin said, and Trevor would have smiled if he wasn’t so tired.

Everything was fine. He wasn't there anymore. He was here at home with his friends, and right now he had to be strong for Gavin, he didn't need to drag him into his own painful flashbacks.

"I'm sorry," he heard Gavin saying again, and hated how choked his voice sounded. "I'm so sorry you had to go through this, Trevor. I'm really, really so fucking sorry.”

Trevor tried to smile again, but it didn't reach his eyes and his face fell almost instantly. "Yeah," he said faintly. "I just…" he slumped a little in the bed, quietly groaning as all his joints ached in pain. "I feel so stupid.”

That shut up the other’s apologies. Gavin frowned. "Why's that?”

The hand that had been his first tortured limb, now set tightly in a cast, twinged ever so slightly, and Trevor glared hard at it. ”For letting them do this in the first place," he said bitterly. "For being so stupid. I should've never got caught in the first place, I should've tried to escape, I…" he hiccupped and brought his other, relatively unscathed hand, to cover his face. "I don't deserve to be a leader of any kind, or even part of a crew like this. I'm not strong enough.”

Gavin looked like someone had punched him in the guts.

"Don't say that," he said firmly. "Please, Trevor. You are anything but weak; the fact you went through all of this and survived is just another proof of that.”

Trevor sniffed, still hiding behind his palm. "Only because you guys came to save me," he whispered. "I mean, I'm glad you did – thank you, honestly, I don't think I said it yet – but out of all of us, I couldn't even get out of the fucking room. One time Ryan dislocated his own shoulder and killed ten guys with his bare hands just to get back to us…" his voice broke. "I couldn't even make it out of my chains. So pathetic.”

Gavin kissed him. He leaned close and put his palms on the pillow, forcing Trevor’s eyes to meet his own. Trevor froze for a second and then kissed him back, breathless, desperate. "Trevor, lo – " Gavin cut himself off to kiss him again. "Listen to me. I'm going to ask you a question, and I want you to give me a sincere answer. Can you do that for me?”

Trevor pouted a bit when Gavin pulled back, but nodded in confusion.

Gavin took a deep breath. "Do you think I'm pathetic?”

Trevor’s eyes widened. "Wha – “

"Do you think I'm pathetic?" Gavin repeated.

"Of course not," Trevor blurted out. "You're, like, my everything." His ears turned bright pink at the last statement.

Gavin smiled softly. "Even though my foster parents abused me almost everyday until I ran away from home?”

Trevor’s jaw dropped, but he seemed unable to make any sound. Gavin carefully placed a hand on his cheek, wiping a stray tear.

“I’ve also been a victim to cruelty," Gavin said. "They formed me into someone very bitter and hateful and that lead me to do things I'm really not proud of, not even after I came to realise it weren't my fault. And after all that, Geoff and the guys still found it in their hearts to accept me for who I am and to offer me a home and to _love_ me. I didn't have any say in this, the abuse or the love. And yet here I am, I’m the fucking Golden Boy, part of the most powerful crew in Los Santos. And everyday I live with the past.” His green eyes searched Trevor curiously. “So I’ve been helpless in the past. So what? You did escape them, Trevor. You escaped _death_. You’re stronger for it, like I was. You can build on the past, once you're fully healed. Whatever you went through doesn't define you, nor does it make you weak or pathetic; the ones who hurt us are the pathetic ones, for doing all those horrible things just to get more power and control. You are nothing but brave and kind and the best rocket scientist we have.”

Trevor chuckled wearily. "I'm the only rocket scientist you fuckers have.”

"That doesn't mean you're not out best.”

"Gav…" Trevor whispered. He met Gavin’s gaze with a small smile, and the older man took the clue and clambered into bed next him, scooped him into his arms as much as he could, letting him bury his bruised face in his shirt.

“I love you.”

A shiver ran through Trevor’s spine despite having heard the words countless times before. “I love you, too,” he echoed, a reply that was cut off by Gavin’s rumbling stomach.

Trevor glanced up at him, bemused. “When did you last eat? You should go and get some food, I can smell it from here. Don’t worry, I think I’ll be asleep in seconds.”

Gavin remained silent for a short time. "In a minute," he finally said in a small voice. "I… I'd like to stay like this a little longer, if that's okay with you.”

Trevor smiled. “Always.”

There was an awkward minute of arranging themselves but soon they slid into what was familiar. Gavin’s back was against the backboard, Trevor along his front, his body pressed close, head on a pillow near Gavin’s shoulder.

“I have to say,” Gavin said, carefully pulling Trevor closer, “you smell better than you normally do. Got a nice sea salt quality about you.”

Trevor huffed in amusement. He leaned into Gavin, feeling the other man’s arms wrap around him. It was comforting and real and Trevor just allowed himself a moment of soaking it all in after being touch starved for so long. He didn’t even realise he’d been falling asleep until a kiss on his forehead roused him somewhat.

“I’m never gonna get a decent rest if you keep kissing me all the time.”

“Shut up, Treyc’s. Go to sleep.”

Trevor relaxed again, eyes fluttering shut, breathing evening out.

* * *

 

Gavin watched the younger man until he was sure he was asleep. He knew that it was going to take much longer than a few days to recover and restore normality for the both of them. He knew it was going to be a struggle and that there would be problems and hurdles but they would have each other.

They trusted in each other. All the others trusted in them.

He burrowed deeper into the pillow and inhaled deeply, letting Trevor’s scent soothe his frayed nerves. As he drifted off, Trevor a small yet reassuring weight in his arms, his heart beating a steady background rhythm, Gavin knew they would be able to move forward from this, and for the first time since Trevor’s capture, he didn’t dread the morning.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay! So I've finally published something after AGES! Feels good.
> 
> Firstly, I'd like to apologise to anyone who's been reading my other fics and waiting for updates. Basically... well, life was a bit shit for quite a while. To put it bluntly, I had one friend commit suicide and another was fatally injured in a stabbing... so yeah.
> 
> Anyway, my energy for writing the other big stuff kinda drained away but I'm starting to get back into writing and other stuff. I'm not going to make any promises about returning to Ocean Lights because I honestly don't know if I'll get back to it. BUT...
> 
> In order to keep my writing up to scratch, I wouldn't mind doing some shorter fics/one shots if anyone would like to request something like the one above. Just hit me up on here or Tumblr if you have any ideas!
> 
> And finally, thank you to everyone who has supported me and my writing over the past year or so. Your words honestly mean so much to me and are one of the main reasons I still feel inspired after everything so THANK YOU <3


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